


Let's Talk

by holyphck (orphan_account)



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Angst, Dialogue prompts, Drabble Collection, Drama, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Female Reader, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot Collection, Romance, Tragedy, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 12:58:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17849885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/holyphck
Summary: A series of RDR2 drabbles/one-shots based on dialogue prompts I find on Tumblr.Each prompt is directly linked back to its original source.Current:"Nobody's seen you in days."---discontinued for a future redux.





	Let's Talk

A hue of orange and blues span across the partly cloudy sky as the sun makes its appearance behind the mountains and continues on its path for the day. You slow your mount to a trot when you finally made it to your destination: a riverbank. A sharp exhale of breath escapes from your lungs once you take in the sight before you. Near the river, there's a familiar cream-colored tent pitched up with a burning, crackling campfire that stands before it; a snow-white mare hitched to a small, stray tree as it calmly eats at a patch of grass without a care in the world. Not too far from the small area you see a tall bearded man with a fishing pole held in his hands, waiting for a fish to take a bite at the lure he had cast. Your lips curve and form a sullen smile when you recognize who the person is. The sounds of the waterfall behind the scene drown out all of your previous thoughts, and before you know it, you're mindlessly urging your steed towards him.

"Hey there mister," you call out to him as you get closer. "What are you doing round these parts all by your lonesome?"

The man turns his head in your direction. At first, there's a scowl on his face and you see his right hand reach for one of the revolvers that rest on his gun belt. Your eyes grow wide at this, and in response, you make your horse come to an abrupt stop with a "whoa." You then raise your hands high above your head to show you mean him no harm. Fortunately for you, once he gets a good look at you, both of his hands are back securely around the fishing rod. His expression softens and he looks back at the river and lets out a gruff. "God damn it, **[First Name]**. For a second I thought you were one of those Murfree bastards."

A broad smile tugs at your lips when you hear that. You give a loud, hearty chuckle and dismount from your horse. Gently, you use the reins to guide it to the lone tree you found the white, beautiful mare at. You hitch your stallion beside the mare and pat his side in appreciation.

"Thank the lord I ain't one of them, Arthur," you reply with a snort.

Eventually, you make your way to Arthur's campsite and sit cross-legged in front of the campfire. You stretch your hands out towards the flames and a content hum emits from you. Last night was not kind to you in terms of temperature, so finally experiencing some warmth feels heavenly. 

The clanging of spurs catch your attention and you spot Arthur crouching on the other side of the campfire. In his hand he holds his hunting knife with a piece of freshly caught fish skewered on its tip. He holds it over the fire to cook it.

There's something different about him, and you can tell it's nothing good. Your frown returns. Silence looms over you two and you take the opportunity to study him closely. His entire face is pale and covered in sweat. The usual bright and lively cerulean blue eyes he once possessed are now bloodshot and weathered. You notice that his lips are also colorless, save for the tiny splotch of dried blood below his bottom lip. God, you can't fathom what he's going through and a knot grows in the pit of your stomach.

Once he's finished cooking, Arthur offers the fish to you and you decline with a shake of your head. He shrugs his shoulders and cools it off before snarfing it down. Arthur finishes two more pieces of fish and stashes his knife back in its sheath. Suddenly, a fit of violent coughs erupt from him and this worries you immensely. You're about ready to leap at him and comfort him, but you stand your ground. You watch him pull a flask of bourbon from the satchel in his tent and he twists it open, downing its contents in hopes to quell the coughs.

You can't find it in yourself to utter a single word because you're frightened to the core.

Eventually the coughing stops, and you attempt to calm yourself down; though, you are incapable of doing so entirely. There's a distraught expression on your face as you examine Arthur carefully. Through labored breaths, he regains his composure and sits up. Arthur gazes up at you with a guilty look.

"I looked for you lot these past few weeks... and heard you'd been out and about," you begin. "Rhodes, Saint Dennis... And I... I made sure to keep my head down so the Pinkertons would leave me be, just like you said."

Your voice shakes, betraying you. You want to show that you're strong; you want to show Arthur how much you've grown these past few months, but you just _can't_. Here you are, a blubbering mess just like the first time you'd met Arthur years ago. Tears form in your eyes and threaten to spill from them.

"Mrs. Adler—Sadie—visited me in Valentine, told me you'd gone and _nobody's_ _seen_ _you_ _in_   _days_ ," you explain, your tone growing serious. You look him in the eyes as you do. "Why are you out here in your condition? You should see a doctor."

Arthur's reply is curt and immediate. "I have, and there ain't no cure. **[First Name]** , I ain't got much time left and I don't... want you to have to see me like this," his voice is hoarse from his sore throat and you can hear how uncharacteristically defeated he sounds. "Do yourself a favor and forget about me; go home, go back to your husband. All I've ever done is hurt you."

You're shaking your head in disbelief. The tears finally cascade down your reddened cheeks and you wipe at them while you exclaim, "After all these years, you're telling me to do that?!"

He tries to respond, but you cut him off entirely. You quickly stand up and cross your arms together over your chest. Your hands grasp tightly at your elbows and you sniffle. 

"Arthur Morgan, I _loved_ you— _love_ you—more than you could ever know. And despite all the hurt I went through..." As you recall those memories, you give him a tiny, wistful grin. You pause and steady your heavy breathing, your voice returns to normal (with the occasional intake of breath that came from crying). "I am thankful for the times we shared. I've learned and I've grown thanks to them, so I can't up and leave you like this."

Arthur pushes himself up to stand and he nods his head in understanding. "I'm sorry for saying that, I didn't think you'd react that way." 

"I shouldn't've yelled at you, considering..." you awkwardly admit, your sentence drifting off as you refuse to elaborate any further.

"Don't worry about it. After all, it's been a long time coming if you ask me," he gives you a large grin, it was a surprise how he didn't mind any of it. "You know, you've changed a whole lot since we last met. You're more headstrong and confident in yourself. I'm proud of you,  **[First Name]**."

It's hard to explain how that statement makes you feel. It's a mix of emotions that flit around in your mind and you just smile at him. You'd missed this. You'd missed him. You'd missed moments like this.

"Now, what else has Sadie told you?"

"Well..."

•••

The two of you spent that moment together, relaxing around the fire once more. You talked about how life was (excluding Arthur's condition), such as your experiences; things you've done, heard and learned. At some point, Arthur brought up the idea of finally leaving the life before it was his time to pass. The thought of that made you happy, and you agreed wholeheartedly.

However, he just had one last prior engagement he had to get through before he could disappear from society: rob one last train.

A day after the heist, you entered the Saint Dennis saloon you and Arthur decided to meet up at. When you neared the specific table you chose, your heart sank. You came face to face with Charles in his stead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me nearly an entire day to write this. I'm slowly getting better with getting my ideas out. Sweet! :D


End file.
